


Promposal

by IronScript



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cheesiness, M/M, Police Officer Derek Hale, Promposal, Stiles is Legal, Supportive Sheriff Stilinski, Teasing, very brief mention of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 08:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronScript/pseuds/IronScript
Summary: Prom is coming up at Beacon Hills High School, and honestly, Stiles doesn't particularly careWhy?The only person he'd want to enjoy it with is over the school-imposed age limit.Or at least that was the case until the wonderfully brilliant Lydia Martin pulled a few strings...





	Promposal

**Author's Note:**

> My one and (most likely) only contribution to the Teen Wolf fandom. This will only ever be a one-shot, since I wrote it a LONG time ago back when I was still active in this fandom. But I figured I might as well post it anyway. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Stiles frowned as he saw yet another flyer for prom. His brown eyes flickered up, seeing the sheets of paper taped to every fifth locker door on either side of the hallway.

“Overkill, much?” he muttered quietly.

“I know.” A familiar voice said with an airy sigh, and he turned to see Lydia walking up from behind him, heels clicking loudly on the floor.

He wondered why she wore heels, considering that the girls had mentioned that they were uncomfortable as all hell. Maybe because they announced her presence every time she took a step, making her impossible to ignore and just as difficult to dismiss.

And now he was psychoanalyzing her choice of footwear.

He shook his head to clear it.

Damn ADHD.

What had he been thinking about again?

“I wanted just one flyer at the exits, so students would see it as they walked out, but I was overruled.” The strawberry blonde said with pursed lips.

“Someone tried to dethrone you, queen of the school’s event committee?” Stiles asked, lips quirking in a slight smile.

Lydia smiled, pleased at the compliment. “Unfortunately. Our ‘advisor’ wanted to waste as much paper and ink as possible—apparently she tried flirting with the dean and he rejected her.“

“As he should; he’s married.” Stiles muttered, opening his locker (which was luckily free of flyers.)

She hummed in agreement. “Yes, and I would have used that information to keep the flyer count down to a more manageable number, but I managed to negotiate something else instead.”

“Oh?” Stiles asked, turning towards her with his eyebrow cocked in question.

Lydia gave him a smug smile, whipping two sheets of paper out of her purse and handing one of them to him.

He opened and read it obediently, eyes widening in surprise.

“The school rules state that non-students coming to events as dates can’t be older than 20.” Stiles said from memory, voice a bit faint. “How did you manage to get around that?”

Lydia gave him a wide smile. “Well, you’ll be bringing Derek, obviously—let me know if I have to help you strong arm him into agreeing to attend—and I’ll be bringing Jordan. Two Beacon Hills police officers at a school function can only be a good thing, considering how many…bad things…have happened over the last few years.”

Stiles stared at her for a minute before breaking out into a grin, eyes shining brightly as he realized that he could go to prom with his boyfriend (and Derek could experience prom, too, since he’d left before getting the chance).

“You’re really something else, you know that?” Stiles asked with a laugh, nudging his friend gently on the arm in silent gratitude.

He knew Lydia well enough to know that overt gratitude and public displays of affection weren’t really her style.

She wore a mask at school, and she wouldn’t appreciate anything that would make people realize that she wasn’t the coldhearted, unintelligent, spoiled brat that she acted like.

Lydia got his silent message, though, and gave him a small nod of acknowledgment before moving on and talking about what colors he and Derek should wear to the dance, and heaven help them if they didn’t meet her expectations.

Of course, that just reminded Stiles that he needed to figure out a way to ask Derek in the first place.

Time to plot…

~

“So, any ideas?” Malia asked later on in the parking lot.

The other boys were still at lacrosse, and since Stiles had quit when he realized that he could be spending that time with Derek instead of fruitlessly training when he would be benched at the games anyway, it was just him and the girls.

“Ideas for what?” he asked, taking a sip of water and leaning against the side of his jeep.

“Your promposal.” Lydia elaborated.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “A few, nothing concrete, but first—is that even a word?”

“Internet.” Lydia explained with a shrug. “What are your ideas so far?”

“Nothing too interesting.” Stiles said with a sigh. “I looked online. Use a fortune cookie, give him a fish bowl with the words ‘Of all the fish in the sea, will you do to prom with me?’ written on it, or, and this one was my favorite, one guy just got naked and put a sign in front of his junk saying that he wouldn’t put his clothes back on unless the person he was asking agreed to go with him.”

Kira turned a fire engine red, but Lydia, Malia, Erica, and Allison grinned appreciatively.

“I don’t think that method would work for you and Derek.” Erica observed with a smirk. “If the smell at the house is any indication, he certainly appreciates you without clothes.”

This time Stiles turned a little pink, but he gave them a slight smile anyway. “Can’t complain. It’s a mutual appreciation.”

The girls snickered, Lydia wondering if she should try and orchestrate it so that when Derek proposed to Stiles (she was pretty sure he would eventually) he would use that.

Unfortunately, her inner romantic—hello, her favorite movie was the _Notebook_ —cringed at that idea, so she dismissed it.

~

Three days later, Derek walked into the BHPD office and immediately noticed a few people staring at him.

Needless to say, it…unnerved him.

Not that he wasn’t used to people staring at him for a variety of reasons, but his coworkers had already gotten over the fact that he had been their main suspect in Laura’s murder and that he had been a fugitive for part of that time.

By now they knew how he felt about family (or the ragtag bunch of teenagers that they knew he _saw_ as family, aka the pack) and that he definitely hadn’t been Laura’s killer, so…

Seriously, what was with the stares?

“You got a delivery.” Jordan Parrish said with a smirk.

Derek eyed the hellhound warily. “It’s not a bomb, is it? Pretty sure that’s your area.”

Parrish snorted, shaking his head. “I have no idea what’s in the package, but I’d eat my foot if it is.”

“Well, you do tend to put your foot in your mouth.” Derek muttered, walking to his desk.

He heard Sheriff Stilinski’s heartbeat right before the man snorted, having heard Derek’s comment as he walked out of his office.

“Just open it.” John said, amusement with his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee, hiding a smile.

Derek hesitated, glancing at the large, flat box on his desk, before subtly sniffing it.

Stiles.

Immediately, he relaxed, before tensing up again.

God, he hoped his mate hadn’t sent anything inappropriate. Not only was he at work, but Stiles’ _dad_ , the _Sheriff_ , was watching…

Figuring that it would be best to just get it over with, he ripped open the wrapping paper and opened the box, only to see…

A sheet of baking paper covering whatever it was, and a message written on the inside of the lid.

_‘Roses are red_

_Donuts are the bomb_

_Do me a favor_

_And come with me to prom?’_

Derek’s eyes widened, letting out a slow breath as he realized what was happening. He lifted the baking paper, unsurprised to see fifteen donuts, three different flavors, with the five in the middle spelling out P-R-O-M-? in white icing.

Slowly, he looked up to see that Parrish and the Sheriff were looking at him, waiting for his reaction.

So was half the station, but he ignored them.

“I’m above the age limit.” He said dumbly, not knowing what else to say.

“So am I, but Lydia asked me yesterday when we went out for coffee.” Parrish said with an amused glint in his eyes. “She managed to get them to… _bend_ the rules for us.”

He should have guessed.

Of course it was because of Lydia.

Derek blinked.

“Okay then.” He nodded. “I’ll tell him my answer tonight, I guess.”

“Date night?” Parrish asked with a lecherous smirk.

In answer, Derek rolled his eyes and pulled a pair of movie tickets for that night’s showing of Avenger’s 2 from his pocket to show them, also proving to his boyfriend’s dad that they would be going to the movies, not having a ‘night in’ like Parrish was suggesting.

Not that the Sheriff could (or would, at this point) protest, since it wouldn’t be under his roof and Stiles had turned 18 last April, but he did know that the man would prefer that they didn’t have ‘adult sleepovers’ during the school week.

John snorted. “Well, at least this time no one will need to complain about ‘indecent displays of affection.’ Stiles will be too distracted to do anything.”

Parrish snorted, while Derek’s ears turned pink, slightly mortified.

“We weren’t even doing anything.” Derek did _not_ whine, thank you very much.

John smiled fondly, remembering Stiles’ rant that the people who complained were just a bunch of homophobic assholes. “I know, son.”

The two men pretended not to notice Derek’s small smile at the term.

Honestly though, the Sheriff wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if Derek became his son (-in-law) officially at some point.

A few minutes later, John had returned to his office while Derek and Parrish had started in on the mountain of paperwork.

“Oh, Parrish?” Derek got the Deputy’s attention, sounding as innocent as he could.

“Yeah?” the Deputy glanced at him.

Derek gently stripped away the piece of paper from the donut box and showed the message to him.

“You mentioned something about there not being any bombs in my delivery.” The werewolf explained mildly, tapping the word ‘bomb’ with his index finger. “Going to keep your word, or…?”

Jordan scowled and threw a stapler at him, but it was worth it to hear the Sheriff burst out laughing from his office.

~

Later that night, John raised an eyebrow at his son, eyeing his neck, which had patches of red and purple already.

Stiles stared at him awkwardly, shrugging. “It’s a Marvel movie, we had to wait for the after-credits scene. And, well…”

John rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling, walking out of the room before his son could finish his sentence.

John liked Derek. He was practically family, as was the rest of the pack, and he would be more than happy when they tied the knot (he had a bet going with Melissa about whether they would just elope) and he could call Derek son for real. He trusted Derek, hadn’t had a doubt in his mind when the young man promised that he and Stiles hadn’t done anything illegal even though they’d started dating before Stiles turned eighteen.

That did not mean, however, that he wanted to know about their private life.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review! <3
> 
> (Again, this will ever only be a one-shot.)
> 
> I don't know how realistic Lydia's ability to negotiate the school rules would be. The 'dates have to be younger than 20' thing was a rule at my high school, but I very much doubt that's universal, so. Mostly added that just so Derek wouldn't have any cause to guess what Stiles' surprise was about.


End file.
